And Now For Something Completely Different...
by little hecate
Summary: Random slash. PWPWPWPWPWPWP First attempt at humour. Multiple pairings to be expected. Mostly Harry/Seamus.
1. Me and My Lesbian Lover

Disclaimer: J 

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns these lovely creatures. As though you didn't already know. And the title is a Monty Python thing. But you probably already knew that and if you didn't, you are missing out on a **_very_** cool thing.

Warning: Just like everything else I've got posted so far, this is slash. That means that there are romantic and/or sexual situations wherein two (or sometimes more *grins cheekily*) boys are digging other boys. There isn't any sex so far, but there is some romance, albeit is really crappy romance, so consider yourself warned. And should you fail to heed this warning and flame me anyhow, would you at least say something constructive? I like constructive criticism. (Constructive being the operative word.) Oh, and there is the _greatest_, **biggest**, **_FATTEST_** PWP warning you could _ever_ imagine.

Pairing: these first two parts are just Harry and Seamus, but we'll see how it plays out.

A/N: A conversation that Rubicon and myself had not long ago… I was feeling _extremely_ random. Oh, and this, of course, is a sort of present for her. Hope you like it, love! This is also my first attempt at humour, so if I really suck at it, please do let me know because I don't want to be thinking that I'm funny when really I'm just being an ass. I hate being an ass.

And Now For Something Completely Different

Me And My Lesbian Lover

"Hiya, Harry!"

"Geeze. Hi, Seamus." Well. He appeared out of absolutely nowhere.

"Did I startle you?"

"Wasn't that apparent?" Fucking asshole, you are, Harry. But I just lost my place in the book I was reading. Actually, I just lost my book.

"Ahm… sorry?" He looks like he's in pain.

"'S all right. So what's up?"

He's got that 'there is something very imperative on my mind' look. I wonder what's up? "You know, it's funny you should ask that question. ***pause*** Well…. The thing is, Harry…. We've known each other for some time now, yes?"

"_Yeeees_."

"And… well…. One can't help but notice things about a person after such a period of time."

"Such as?" I can only imagine where this is going to go.

"Well, I've noticed –not to say that I meant to, of course- well…. You've not got a bird…. And one can't help glimpsing another ***mutters*** say… in the showers… ***louder*** You know, you have very nice hands. Has anyone ever told you that? Actually, your feet are quite-"

"Seamus?"

"Uh… yeah?"

"Am I really making you so nervous?" He's really quite adorable when he's trying to put the moves on.

"Not _nervous_, exactly," he mutters.

"I see. Then, do you feel like being just a tad more articulate, or would you prefer to waffle on a bit longer?"

"Would you mind if I chose to waffle for just another minute?" he asks as though I just gave him a great gift.

"Might I ask why?"

"Get m' courage up," he answers casually.

"Ah. Um, carry on, then."

"Say, how about them…" he looks around for something to talk about. "I thought you liked Quidditch…. Chudley… what the hell are they? Artillery Scouts, or something?"

"Cannons?"

"Ah, yes, Chudley Cannons. _Riiiiight_. Although, I think I like Artillery Scouts better. More colourful."

"Indeed." God, it's hard not to laugh.

"Why did they pick a fucking pigeon for the bird of peace? Really! And did you know that they can't even cry?" he says out of the clear blue sky. I knew he was a rather.. _random_ individual, but I think that one beats the rest into the fucking ground.

"I think that may be a metaphor for something else. I mean, can you really _hear_ anything cry? Not counting the sniffling and… what have… you." Great, now I'm getting all nervous.

"That's a hell of a point you have there. Actually, you always make good points. My goodness, you're quite the well-rounded individual, aren't ya? Sharp as a bloody razor and a body like a broomstick. Meaning that you're tall and lean, you know?.. All right, nix that…. Though I wouldn't mind riding you…" he slaps himself on the forehead, saying, "Shut up, Seamus. I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean that." He's looking like he's on the verge of panic.

Damn it. "Which part?" I hope he figures it out.

"Ahm…. Which part would you rather I not mean?" he asks in the same nervous fashion he started out with. "Wait, don't tell me. You're gay and I'm not. Wait… _I'm_ gay and _you're_ not. Right."

"No, actually, I was kind of hoping you didn't mean the part about not meaning it."

Blinks, breathes in deeply, and I think he may just have gone into cardiac arrest. Looks like he figured it out, all right. "Okay, I thought I just heard you say something along the lines of-"

"Seamus, you're making this far more difficult than it has to be." Breathe. Just breathe. Okay. "Being as I think we've got it pretty much established here, do you want to just come right on out and say whatever it was that you came over here in the first place to say?" Great, Harry, throw the responsibility of this off your shoulders. "Because I don't think I know what to words to use." Nice recovery.

"As though I do?" he asks incredulously.

"Seamus, if _you_ don't know what to say, then there is no hope for _anyone_," I laugh.

"Thanks. I think." His nose is wrinkled up a bit in an expression of confusion.

"I meant that as a compliment, love."

"Why, Harry Potter, are you coming on to me?" he breaks into a wide grin. Finally. Though, I thought we'd carry on with the ambiguous bullshit a bit longer than this. This may just be a new record for Seamus!

"Actually, I've been trying to come on to you for some time now. Well, not exactly _trying_, more like _wanting_ to…" You sound like a fucking moron, Potter.

"Harry?" he asks as he tilts my chin back up and forcing me to make eye-contact. "Would it be too presumptuous of me if I were to ask if I could kiss you?"

"More or less presumptuous than wanting to ride me?"

"Coming from me, I would have to say that it would be more than less," he replies laughing. "But, you knew that, didn't you?"

"Are you saying, then, that there's more to this than just an attempt at seduction?" I tease him back.

"Let me get this cleared up **right** **now**. I would _never_ insult your intelligence by thinking that I could have you through a mean as trivial as seduction. I'm coming right out and saying it: I like you and I want you _because_ I like you. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes, I should say so."

"So can I kiss you now?" he asks with the tone of a child asking if they can open their Christmas presents.

"I don't know. Are you physically capable at this juncture-"

"You know, Harry, I am totally going to ignore that remark and just do it anyway," he says as he climbs onto my lap. "But do you mind if I take your glasses off first?"

Why he bothers asking is beyond me. Even as he started talking, he was removing them from my face. And now he's sitting here and looking very strangely at me. His smile has altered just the slightest, though I couldn't tell you how. He cocks his head to the side a bit. "What?"

"You're really pretty without those glasses, you know. I mean, you're fucking gorgeous no matter what, but you knew that. But I like your eyes and the shape of your face. With those glasses on, I never noticed that before," he explains very simply. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't. It's just… I'm sorry, I just don't know how to accept compliments. I don't get them that often and-"

"It's fine, Harry. You needn't feel like you've got to explain yourself to me."

Leaning forward, he presses his lips firmly against mine. The heat lingers only for a moment before he pulls away. His arms are around my neck; mine are around his slender waist to hold on to his back. Pulling him to me once again, I take a bit more initiative and start kissing him. He responds much better than he did before. I never fancied Seamus as the sort who would require his partner to lead. I've always seen him as far too outgoing and self-assured to ever follow along behind anyone. Then again, he is far more feminine than I've cared to admit. Not that that's a bad thing…

"So does this mean you'll be my girlfriend?" he grins as he rests his forehead against mine.

"Aw. And I was hoping _you_'d be _my_ girlfriend," I tease him.

"And all this time I thought I was the only lesbian at Hogwarts!"

Good god, what have I gotten myself into? This promises to be a hell of an adventure. Me and my lesbian lover. *laughs* Perfect.

Told you I was feeling random. And if you'd like to see some other pairings being massacred like this, please feel free to let me know. I am more than open to suggestions. But you knew that. Cheers!


	2. Harry Kissed Seamus and the Magick of Pa...

Disclaimer and Warning: go back to the first chapter 

Disclaimer and Warning: go back to the first chapter. I'm running out of witty things to say about the characters not being mine.

A/N: And yet another conversation that actually did occur between me and Rubicon…

Harry Kissed Seamus and the Magick of Pat Benetar

What the hell is going on in here?

"SEAMUS!" He's singing along to this woman with a _very_ womanly voice. But he's doing a damned good impersonation, I'm sure.

"Why don't you hit me with your best shot."

"SEAMUS ALAN FINNEGAN!"

"Oh, shit! Hiya, Ronnie!"

"Could you get this any sodding louder?"

"What?" He turns the volume knob all the way down on that damned Muggle stereo he insists upon carrying around with him everywhere he goes. "Sorry, I had it as high as it would go."

"You're kidding? I never would have guessed."

"Sorry," he repeats, turning the volume just slightly louder.

"And just what the hell is this, anyway?"

Suddenly, he looks stunned and almost hurt. "Don't tell me you don't listen to Pat Benetar," he says as he pales.

"Pat Who?"

"Pat Benetar," he repeats as though I am a complete idiot.

All I can do is shrug for a response. I don't know any Pat Whoeverthefuck.

"Oh, Ron. I can't believe I'm hearing this," he says as he covers his face with his hands. "You really don't know?"

"Honestly, Seamus, you're going on like I just murdered your first-born. I'm sorry I don't listen to your Muggle shite, but-"

"Pat Benetar is not SHITE, Ron! She deserves more respect than that. She's Pat sodding Benetar!" He's continuing to become more and more stunned and appalled at me the more we discuss this. "This woman can rock like you wouldn't fucking believe! Sit your ass down, Ronnie, you aren't going anywhere," he yells as I try to head towards the door. Pointing to Harry's bed (which is between Seamus' and my own), he directs me to the place he wants me to sit as he once again turns the volume to an almost unbearable level. "It's time to get edumacated."

Hell. I'm in hell, aren't I? And Seamus is the Devil's assistant, I'm sure of it. He's the Earthly contact whose sole purpose is to drive as many people as he can to the point of madness. And I'm sure that he's the best who has ever worked in Satan's employ. I'll bet he gets a raise every month for doing his job so fucking well.

"Harry!" Seamus exclaims, stopping his ludicrous dancing and throwing himself at Harry. What the hell is going on?

"Educating Ron, are we?" he asks with a wry smile.

"You mean you know about this?!"

"What? Pat Benetar? Of course I know about her," he replies in a distracted fashion that I am not at all pleased with. How dare he be fooling around with Seamus while I'm slowly being tortured to death! "Greatest chick singer of the eighties."

"You're nuts. You're both fucking crackers. Absolutely batty."

"Please tell me it didn't take you this long to figure that out," Seamus replies.

"Really, Ron, I think that once you listen to her a bit, you'll catch on," Harry adds as he disentangles himself from Seamus' long arms so that he can put his books down.

"What did you do to him?" I direct this question towards Seamus and I accentuate it with a lovely glare.

I've got a feeling that that was the wrong question to ask. "Goodness, where should I start?" he mutters in a mad daze.

"Nevermind. I don't want to know."

"But I've not done half as much to him as he has to me. God, you would not _believe_ the things he can do with a-"

"Stop. Right. There."

"-bottle of honey and a ball of twine. But that's nothing compared to-"

"SEAMUS!"

"-his skills with-"

"_SEAMUS_!"

"Are you all right, Ronnikins? You're looking a bit peaked," he says in a very innocent tone that is very deceiving.

Harry's just listening to all of this with a stupid grin plastered all over his face. Once he put his books down, he took Seamus in his arms again and just laughed while he was telling me all that. This is very odd. I'm watching my best friend –whom I _thought_ was a staunchly heterosexual male- shove his tongue down another guy's throat. If it didn't look so damn comfortable and easy for them, I might be a bit taken aback. I might be upset, but they actually fit now that I see them like this. And that Muggle chick is still wailing in the background.

"Okay, I'm going now. It's been real, kids."

"Real what?" Seamus asks.

"Real weird."

"Weird… but _sexy_," he says as I walk out the door and back down to the common room.

Dean, Neville, and Hermione are all still sitting around the table. All three of them look up when I take my seat again.

"You all right, Ron?" Hermione asks, borderline concerned.

"You just learned all about the magick of Pat Benetar, didn't you?" Dean says knowingly.

"Harry kissed Seamus."

They're all staring at me, blankly. "And your point is what exactly?" Hermione replies, confused.

"You mean you didn't know?" Neville pipes up.

"What is this? Am I always the last to know?"

"So you're not a fan of music, that's nothing to be ashamed of," says Dean.

"I'm not talking about music. I'm talking about Harry kissing Seamus."

"And I still don't see your point," Hermione reiterates, throwing her hands out in front of her as though to accentuate her point.

"How long has this been going on for?"

"I don't know. A while now," Neville replies nonchalantly.

A while now. What the hell is that supposed to mean? They've all gone back to doing their homework. Bloody prigs. I'm the idiot this time. I _hate_ being the idiot.

"Did you really not notice that we've all been studying together without those two quite frequently?" Hermione asks as she takes more notes.

"And have you not noticed that when one of us forgets something up there when they're up there, tough shit?" adds Dean.

"Or the noise? Why the hell else do you think he plays it so loud?" Neville points out and now I am really feeling like a jerk. "'Course, his singing skills aren't the greatest, either, and I think he's got it so loud that no one can hear his screeching. Dual intentions."

Dean grins. "Actually, his singing skills are improving. When he's listening to chick singers, he's the best."

"Go figure."

Hermione rolls her eyes at Dean and Neville. "I'd love to hear you say that to his face," she says, finishing the conversation. They don't want to have to hear her make a point and I don't blame them.

"And I never said being femmy was a bad thing," Dean adds on. He ducks as Hermione tries to slap him and she misses. He grins seductively at her as he lowers his voice. Staring pointedly at her, he says in that sickly-sweet tone I hate, "Some people do it quite well."

This time she gets him, right in the arm. "That's for being a git. Now leave me alone," she laughs at the dejected expression on his face. "Though, you are kinda cute when you pout," she adds, once more bursting into hysterics.

As he turns back to his Astronomy charts, Dean kind of laughs as he mutters, "Damn tease."

So, should I totally abandon the idea? Or is randomness acceptable in this capacity?


	3. Vinyl and Voyeurism

Body Disclaimer: still don't own 'em; still not profiting.

Warning: homosexual romance. duh.

A/N: It's funny the things that occur in one's mind when one is admiring one's vinyl trousers in the mirror...

Vinyl and Voyeurism Go Very Well Together, Don't You Think?

"For the hundred thousandth time: no, those trousers don't make your bum look big. Can I please go now?"

"You're sure? Because I don't want him to be all like 'Jesus Christ, my boyfriend looks like a beached fucking whale'. You're sure you're sure?"

"Dead. Fucking. Positive."

Good lord! Dean hasn't gotten that... _menacing_ (good word, don't you think?) with his words in a long time. I must really be pissing him off. *grins*

"Can I please go now?" he whines. "Hermione's waiting."

Guess I shouldn't drag this out any longer. He's already been here for the last twenty minutes, but I still don't believe him. First thing out of his mouth was, 'You're not going out like that, are you?' So of course I had to punish him for his blatant insensitivity, thus the twenty minute stay. I think I look goddamned sexy, but I would think that.

"Just answer one more question."

"Anything, just please let me leave," he says being the fucking impatient git I love so dearly. If he weren't my best friend, I would hate Dean.

"Would you take me out like this?"

Snorted! That fucking prick just snorted at me! "**I** wouldn't take you _any_ where looking like _any_ thing," he says. *glares to rival a basilisk* "But for the sake of argument, yes you look so fine I would take you anywhere."

Fucking liar. Oh well. He's just pissed that he's kept Hermione waiting for so long. God, I don't get nerds at all. I mean, I dig learning and knowledge and all that cal, but the amount of time those two spend in the library is absolutely disgusting. You'd think they'd just tell us that they were going to study because that's the easiest excuse in the book. But they really do study! Can you believe that? Unfuckingbelievable. Ah, to each his own, right? Right.

"You look great. Stunning, superb, lovely, gorgeous, and... and... perfectly ravishable. Can I go now?"

"So you want to ravish me, do you?"

"Who's ravishing you?" Neville asks upon entering the room.

Maybe I can finally get a legitimate answer here. "Harry, I hope. Do these trousers make my bum look big?"

Oohh!!! Neville just blushed at me! That may be a first and I am damn proud now. Obviously, he's trying not to appear overly interested, but I think he likes what he sees. He quickly looks away.

"No, Seamus, they look fine," he says in a higher pitch than he usually uses. God, Neville just made my day.

"See, told you." I stick my tongue out at Dean. Although I do know I'm being childish and stupid, I can't help it. "Get outta here since you're so hot to ditch me."

"I'm not ditching you," he says. He's trying to make me forgive him. What for, I'm not really all that sure, but that's Dean for you. "I just want to-"

"Meet Hermione, I know. Will you please get the hell over it and just shag it already? Honestly!"

"Don't call her 'it', Seamus," he growls. He's so cute when he's trying to be intimidating.

"Shag _her_ then. Right now and I don't want to see you again until you do. Is that clear?"

"You know, Seamus, just because _you_ can't get enough doesn't mean the rest of us can't. I happen to like Hermione anyway," he defends himself, complete with crossed arms and narrowed eyes and everything.

"You just keep telling yourself that."

"Dean, get the fuck out of here while you've got the chance," Neville hisses at him.

"Listen to Neville. He knows what he's talking about."

"What's he talking about, then?" Ron asks upon entering the room.

"Your mother," I reply before anyone else can say anything. Ron's looking pissed. Do I really do that to everyone I come into contact with?

"What _about_ my mother?"

"Oh, I was just being sarcastic, Ronnikins. So what do you think?" I show him my red vinyl trousers. You know, if this whole wizard gig doesn't work out for me, I might go into modeling. I could do it. Got the walk down to a science, or so his slack mouth and unblinking eyes tell me.

Clearing his throat, he replies simply, "Wow."

"Think Harry'll like 'em?"

"If he doesn't, you might want to check his pulse," Ron says without looking away. Ron's made my day, too. Him and Neville, I tell ya! Princes among men, they are. "Can I?" he asks, gesturing towards my pants.

"Wanna touch me, do ya?"

"Wow! I can see myself in these! And in more ways than one," he says as he rubs the material between his finger and thumb. "But red definitely _isn't_ my colour."

I can't help but raise a brow at that. Ron in vinyl trousers? Not something I've ever fancied, but there a great many things that I haven't. And he may just be a bit more of a... er... well, if he knows what colours aren't 'his', I guess I've overlooked something or other over the last few years. Purple. He could do purple.

"Can you find me some of these?" he asks.

"Sure. What colour?"

Neville and Dean (who didn't leave when we suggested it, stupid prat) have both gone into complete hysterics. I don't think they've laughed this hard in a long time.

"What is so funny?" Ron asks them. He's glaring at them, but I don't blame him.

"_You_ *gasps* in _plastic_ pants?" Dean laughs. "All right, now I've seen everything and heard the rest. Catch you cats later," he says, still giggling of course, as he walks out the door.

"Sorry, Ron," Neville says, calming down. "Nothing personal."

"So Seamus?" he says, turning back to me. "You wanna help me kill Neville?"

"Why are we killing Nev- Jesus Christ!" Harry says upon entering the room and looking at me. I think he likes what he's seeing

"You don't like it, do you?" You fucking idiot, Seamus. It takes a really odd sort like you to dig plastic trousers. Harry's pretty odd, though. Not odd enough, I'm afraid, judging from the look on his face. Either he's really impressed (which I doubt) or he's really fucking disappointed or disgusted or something.

"You're not wearing any underwear, are you?" he asks in that heavy voice I've come to recognise as the prelude to sex.

"Lines are really sodding ugly, Harry, trust me," I explain, though I really don't think I need to. He looks pretty content that I'm not wearing anything underneath. Goody!

Oh! Wow

"You want us to leave?" Ron asks. I forgot they were still here

"You wanna watch?" Harry replies without so much as a moment's hesistation. Hmm. *scratches metaphorical chin in thought*

Good god! They actually look like they're considering that offer. Not that I would mind, of course. Though I've never allowed a non-participating party to watch me, the idea has always rather charmed me. So I'm an exhibitionist at heart, I admit it.

"You wanna let 'em?" I whisper in Harry's ear.

"You're serious?" he asks me.

"Seamus, actually. God, you are rotten with names. But yeah, I'd let 'em. Unless you were just being sarcastic."

"I was, but that doesn't mean I still am," he replies with a very cheeky grin. God, that smile is going to be my ruin, I'm sure of it. He could get me to do anything, believe anything, say anything as long as he has that smile on his face.

I pull his shirt off and Ron repeats, "You want us to leave?"

Harry just grins at me as he throws me down on his bed. He usually isn't this rough with me, either. Not that I'm complaining, of course. Well, he's not being that rough. He's jumped on top of me but he's being more like his usual self again and not rushing it. That is one thing about Harry that I admire most: he enjoys me. He doesn't like me or want me, he just _enjoys_ me. Harry never compromises himself when it comes to the people he surrounds himself with. He loves with such a fierce intensity, I'm surprised he doesn't just combust. Geeze. That was a bad mental image. Yeesh. Sorry.

*laughs*

I'm one lucky individual, you know? I get to live my darkest fantasy (second darkest, truth be told) with the hottest guy to walk the face of the Earth. And it all started with vinyl trousers. Go figure.

*****

Just as random as the rest. Hope I didn't offend anyone, as always. And, as always, would love the response. Cheers!

Thanks to: Kimagure, my goddess. *grins* But you knew that, didn't you?; Kimiko, thank you for understanding how I see Ron! Not that I see him as thick... slow on the uptake... not the sharpest knife in the drawer... but I think he's lacking in that arena just a bit. (But just a _bit_ .) hehe; taskukichiriko, I adore you, too, my love! *blows kisses*; ~*Mistique*~, this probably isn't the end, either. I'm kind of working on the next bit in between the thousand other stories I've got going at the moment. Hope you dig it and come back for more... er... I think that wasn't quite what I meant... *whistles* *clears throat*; Clover, here's your continuation. Let me know what you'd like to see in the future. I wouldn't mind the suggestions. *wink wink nudge nudge*; Just Silver, as always, my dear, you made my day! (some days, actually, but that's rather beside the point) And like I could _ever_ abandon randomness! Random is synonymous with Little Hecate. But you knew that...; Basilisk, that was my favourite line, too! *grins* Rubicon actually said that to me, but it went more like, "Jesus fucking Christ, Seamus (yes, she calls me Seamus, and not for no reason)! I'm in hell and I'm _sure_ you're the devil's assistant." There were, of course, many other colourful words that I shall not repeat. Anyhoo... Right. To Rhiow and PollyWollyDoodle, I am so glad you like randomness! Because so do I! Kindred spirits! Yay!

Thanks again and Cheers! 


	4. Apocalypse Now and I Feel Fine

Body Disclaimer: Still not mine. Big surprise, huh? Still not profiting. Bigger surprise, huh? Sheesh.

Warning: sex. Gay sex. Don't like it, go away.

Rating: for this part, I should think an NC-17 is in order. All you little kiddies that don't dig this sort of thing or are of an inappropriate age, don't go whining to your mummy when your innocent little mind is tainted with these images. The rating ain't just for kicks, you know.

Pairing: the oddest pairing and I blame Kimagure wholeheartedly.

A/N: As a result of MiniMe's review. I don't exactly know where this came from. Spur of the moment. In fact, I just finished before posting. Like right now, even! Right... So, read on, kiddies! Please enjoy.

Apocalypse Now and I Feel Fine

"I'm not sure if I should be sick or what."

"I think I'm leaning more to the 'or what' end of that scale," Ron replies. His face is all flushed and he's got this like... sated look.

I'm sure I look about as bad as he does, but after witnessing that, how could anyone not? I mean, watching Harry and Seamus.... er... you know, is rather.... Wow. I've never really fancied myself as swinging that way, but I think they just changed my mind. Or at least gave me a _very_ strong argument.

"I'm going outside," I inform Ron. "I think some really cold, fresh air would do me some good."

"Mm," he hums distractedly. Oh, dear. I'll bet Ronnikins is contemplating going back up there. "See ya 'round, huh, Nev?"

"Ahh, sure."

God, I hope he doesn't. Harry and Seamus do a fine job keeping me up at night, I don't want Ron to add to that. Well, he probably wouldn't, anyway, you know. Best friend factor, and all. Besides, Harry is rather possessive of that kid. God only knows why.

"Making more accidents, Longbottom?"

Of all the stupid, bleeding wankers I had to run into it would be Draco sodding Malfoy. "Yes, on your shoes, Malfoy. Sod off."

"Feisty today, are we?" he says as he hops in front of me. He's bouncing around like Seamus does. This is the weirdest day of my entire life. "Come on, Longbottom! What's up? Don't wanna play with Draky today?"

Mm. No, Neville, don't even fucking think about that. That is wrong. Wrong. So very, very, very, very wrong. "No, Draky, I sure don't."

Did I really just hear Draco Malfoy giggle? No. I didn't. That would have to be a physical impossibility. Malfoys cannot laugh in anything other than spite or malice. Then again, I also thought that they couldn't bounce around like insane, Irish twits, either. Learn something new everyday, huh?

"I'll play nice," he says, grinning still.

"What the hell is wrong with everyone today?" I shout without really meaning to.

"I feel fine, Nev. Thanks!"

"Nev?" Okay, I think it's time I ran the fuck away right now. Crabbe and/ or Goyle is going to jump out and pummel me at any moment. 'Course, that might make this irritating situation end that much sooner. "Listen, Malfoy, I've got-"

"A very nice bum if I do say so myself," he finishes for me as he glances around to look at my backside, his hands clasped behind his back as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

Okay. This is the apocalypse. The end of the world. Hell has frozen over. Or someone slipped some kind of very serious hallucinogen into my food this morning. Perhaps I've got a fever. Yes. That's it. I'm delirious. I'm delusional. That's all this is. I'm going to go back up to Gryffindor Tower, crawl into my bed, and not come out until it's time for class tomorrow.

"Oh, you're no fun," Draco whines, hopping in front of me again. He's fake-pouting and has his arms crossed over his chest.

"Malfoy, what is wrong with you?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out."

"Try a little harder. I'm sure you're bound to figure it out sometime."

"I think maybe _you_ can help me," he says rather huskily as he starts stalking towards me.

"Ahm... Malfoy? Wh-what are you doing?"

Oh shit. The bastard would choose a dead end to back me into, wouldn't he? Bleeding sod. Well, on the positive side, looks like neither Crabbe nor Goyle are here at the moment. Please god just let me get out of this in one piece.

"Taking your advice," he replies cheerfully. "It's okay, luvvie, just relax."

"Around you? Ha!"

"Oh, honestly! You make it out like I torment you all the time or something." He starts giggling again. Too. Fucking. Weird. "Oh, wait! I do. Sorry. Changed my mind, I guess."

"Something is very, very wrong with you."

"You're not the first to tell me that."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Holy god. Oh my lord. Draco Malfoy has just kissed me. On the lips. Very nicely, I might add. This has got to be the end of the world as we know it. As I know it, at least.

"You're kinda cute when you're all nervous," he says, grinning again.

Yeah, and you're kinda cute all the time. Oh, god. I did not just think that. I didn't. I could not have. It's impossible. Where is my mind?

"Come on." He grabs my hand and starts dragging me up the hall.

"Where are we going?"

He pulls open a door and drags me in behind him. I can't see a goddamn thing. It is totally pitch black in here. Oh, god. Please don't let him do whatever it is that he's planning on doing. Oh, my. Oh, wow.

"Malf- stop that."

"Mm. No."

He's licking my neck. "Stop. It. Malfoh my god."

Oh, that's nice. That is really nice. He's biting me now and his hands are on my hips. This is so beyond incredibly wrong, you don't know. Oh, no. Not that. Anything but that. He will not be nice. He won't make me like the way he's kissing my neck.

"Stop it."

"Call me Draco."

"Stop it, Draco."

"No."

He's licking my chest. His hands are inside my robe now and they are very, very soft. He's behaving, relatively speaking. At least he isn't trying to get into my trousers. I can pretend this never happened. I can forget about this. Well, probably not after getting pounded when he lets his game go. That's okay. I can handle a beating. Better than submitting to this guy.

Maybe not. "Oh, god, stop it." That didn't sound like 'stop it' so much as it sounded like 'don't _ever_ stop'. I am not helping myself in the slightest.

Draco's giggling again. His hands are sliding around my waist now and I can feel his forehead pressing against mine.

"You should just relax, you know," he whispers. I can feel his breath on my face. "I won't bite." He kisses me on the lips again. "Unless you want me to, that is."

Um. Yeah, I did like that biting thing he was doing. Stop it, Neville! Don't think about it. Get the hell out of here. You don't want him to keep doing this. Right. And the Pope's not Catholic.

"Draco, let me go," I say as a last attempt. If he doesn't let me go... I guess I'm fucked, huh? Oh, god. I said not to think about it, Neville.

Oh. He did. Well. That's gotta be a first.

"You know, if you just let me have my way with you, this would all be over so much faster," he states very simply.

"Ah. What have you done with that asshole, Malfoy?" Very intelligent, kiddo. Real scathing, that.

Great. Now he's just giggling insanely. Where the hell is that door?

"Seems that asshole, Malfoy, has a hard-on for you," he giggles as he wraps his arms around me again.

And that he certainly does. Oh, dear. Wow. This shouldn't feel so sodding good. It shouldn't. He's grinding his hips against mine now. And this is making it very difficult for me to want to get away. Oh, no. Now I've totally blown it. I moaned. And he giggled. Still is, in fact.

"Like that?" he asks.

"No." I think that was the most transparent lie I have ever told in my entire life.

"Your body would suggest otherwise."

"Oh my fucking god."

That feels good. And his hands are now undoing the button and zipper on my jeans. Please god just let me not get the shit beat out of me when I'm done. He takes my right hand and... Dear. I hope he doesn't want me to take that. That would be painful, I imagine. He's fucking... wow.

"So?" he asks, giggling. "What do you think?"

"Hung like a three-year-old," I reply, unable to stifle my own laughter.

"Hmm. I could say the same."

Squeezing me isn't... fuck. That feels really sodding good. His right hand is squeezing my cock and his left is stroking the back of my neck. Who would have ever thought that someone as sadistic as Draco Malfoy could ever be so gentle? I feel his hand trail down my chest as he sinks to his knees. Is he really going to do what I think he's going to do?

Yes, he certainly is. Wow. His mouth feels fucking amazing. That kid has some serious talent with his tongue. I wonder how often he drags clumsy nerds into deserted closets to give blow jobs. Apparently very often.

"Oh, god, Draco," I moan involuntarily. I can feel his lips stretch into a smile around my erection. He doesn't seem to mind that I've rested my hands on his head. I don't want to push him, I just like touching his hair. He's purring now. Weird. Beyond sodding weird.

Suddenly, I can't feel anything but I can hear myself panting. God. I didn't know it was possible to get so painfully aroused so fast. Oh, wow. I can feel him pressing up against me. His back is pressing up against me and I can feel my cock slip between his ass cheeks. He groans when I reach around to grab him.

"Oh, that's nice, Nev," he purrs quietly as he grinds back against me. After a strangled gasp he says, "Fuck me."

No one has ever said that to me before. First time for everything, sure, but considering the source, I'm not sure if I should be scared or thrilled. I think the latter is definitely more the case. Especially when considering the source. But shit. I don't have any lubricant or anything. And I could totally see me hurting him and him running to get a body guard. That would be amusing as much as it would hurt. I could see him sniveling and crying, 'Nev didn't get me ready, Crabbe. Kick his sorry ass.'

"Right now," he says, pushing back against me.

"I don't want to hurt you."

He laughs. "If you hurt me, I deserve it. Actually... Wait a second. Is this your first time?"

I am not confirming that.

"Okay, then." He grabs my hand and I can feel him sucking on my index finger. When he places it at his opening I can tell that it's dripping. "Just... aahhh.... yeah. Like that," he gasps as I begin pushing it into him.

"Wow," I hear myself mutter. He's tight. And hot. And god does he feel fucking amazing. "You okay?"

"Uh-huh." He's pushing back against me. More purrs come from his throat.

"Like that?"

"No." He giggles again, but this time the sound is rather strangled. "Will you quit playing around and just do it already?"

Okay. Guess it's now or never. Fine by me anywaow. "God, Draco," I moan as I slide easily into him. He wriggles his hips as he pushes back, forcing me all the way inside. He cries out and I'm suddenly very worried about his well-being. "Are you okay?"

"Ffffiiiinne," he moans. "Oh, yes. Twist your hips," he demands. When I do, he cries out again and screams 'yes' at the top of his voice. I hope nobody decides to choose this moment to walk down the hall. Rather awkward explanation, I would think.

'Um, Neville, what are you doing with your cock up Malfoy's ass?'

'Oh, just killing some time.'

Yeah, right. That'd go over really well. And with my luck it would be someone like Snape who'd catch me. That's it. Think about Snape at a time like this. Idiot.

"Move," he whines.

I don't remember grabbing his hips, but I obviously have. Pushing him away from me, I pull out and I don't like that loss of contact. That's how it works, though, Nev. Idiot. Oh my fucking god he feels good. I twist my hips again. I like it when he cries like that.

"Harder, Nev, harder," he pleads.

I could get used to that. I think I really like the idea that Draco sodding Malfoy, Slytherin Poster-Child and notorious prude, is begging me to fuck him harder. Will wonders never cease? His hands are resting on mine, and I like that. It seems so intimate, you know?

"Mm, that's so nice, love," he moans in a whisper. "That's really good. Oh. Oh. H-hard-der. Uh-huh. Like that. Oh. Oh. Oh. YESYESYESYESYESYES!"

He's got to be hurting. There's no way someone can be fucked this hard and not be in excruciating pain. Obviously it doesn't bother him if it does hurt because all I can hear are little noises of encouragement. Moving my right hand from his hip, I wrap it around his dripping erection and start to pump slowly, countering the motion of my thrusts. I move my other hand and slid it under his shirt. His nipples are rock hard and standing out from his thin chest. I tweak one and he gasps. His right hand is resting on my thigh and his left is holding my hand on his chest.

"Neville," he moans. "Oh, god."

Suddenly, I feel his muscles clamp down around me and hot liquid running down my hand. Oh, no. I can't hold off any longer and pull him as close to me as I can... God, Draco... I think I'm screaming. I don't know. It's muffled, anyway, in his neck.

Draco has gone limp in my arms. He is breathing heavily and still holding onto my hand for dear life. I can feel his head lean back to rest on my shoulder, his hot breath hitting my face. I kiss his sweaty neck and he starts purring again.

"Thanks," he whispers. I can hear the smile. With a groan, he pulls away from me and twists around so we're facing each other. "You've no idea how long I've waited to do that."

"So you've been planning on dragging me into a closet for a quick screw?" I tease him as I kiss his cheeks.

"Mm. Not as such, I suppose, but all right." He lays his head on my shoulder and tucks me back into my trousers. His arms are around my waist and I can hear him sigh contentedly. "But if you ever tell anyone, I swear I'll-"

"Save Ron and Harry and all the rest from killing me?"

"Mm. Never mind, then."

His face tilts up and I can feel his lips on mine. He's being very gentle. Almost... careful. Not that a kiss could really hurt, but... Well, then again, this is Draco I'm talking about. Then again, this very same Draco just made me feel better than I've ever felt before.

"Nev?" he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"I think I really like you."

"I like you too, Draco."

"No, I mean it. I really do like you."

"And I suppose that's why you go out of your way to make me out to be an ass on so regular a schedule?" I say before I can stop myself. Shit. He just pulled away from me.

"Fuck you, Longbottom," he says from somewhere to my right.

"Draco, I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how _did_ you mean it?"

Fuck. Nice work, Nev. So smooth. "I just... shit. Never mind."

I can feel his arms around my neck and his forehead on mine. "I'm an asshole, Neville. You know that. But I don't just fuck random boys I find wandering around the halls."

"I know."

"I really like you," he repeats.

"Why?" Why did I just ask that? I don't want to know. I really don't.

"Oh, a small multitude of reasons," he sings quietly. "Forbidden fruit, virgin boy, nice guy, only Gryffindor who stays out of my face. You get the idea."

Not really. Am I being thick or is this really as weird as I think it is?

"I'd like to see you again," he whispers, his arms tightening around me.

Fat chance, boy. "I'd like that, too." Wrong fucking answer, Nev. Really wrong.

"If I blow up your cauldron, don't get pissed, okay?"

Yeah, right. "Don't blow up my cauldron."

He giggles. I knew it would just go in one ear and out the other. "Just don't get pissed. Okay? Promise."

"No. But I'm sure I could forgive you." Nice, sonny. Cute. One encounter with the sod and you're falling all over him. This is really great. Brilliant. "But I wouldn't recommend testing me."

"You're cute when you're trying to sound all tough," he laughs.

"Sod you."

"You did."

"Cute."

"I know."

"We should get out of here before Filch decides to have someone clean something." In all honesty I think that if I don't get out of here right now I'm going to have to ravish him again. Not that that's unappealing. Far from it. But not very wise. Nice afterthought. Sheesh.

Too late. Shit. Snape is standing on the other side of the door. Blank face. Pale blank face. He's laughing. Oh, shit. He's laughing. Shitshitshitshitshit.

"Hiya, Sir," Draco says jovially. He still hasn't let me go.

"Malfoy?" he laughs, pointing. "And _Longbottom_?" He's clutching his stomach.

God has got a sick, sick, twisted sense of humour.

"Coming out of the closet?" Snape laughs.

More like _in_ the closet, actually... Shut up, Neville. Just stop thinking about it. Just run already. And I probably would if I didn't have a lanky, blonde attachment.

"Ten points to Slytherin," he says as he sits on the floor. "Fifteen points to Gryffindor. For getting the Slytherin!"

Yep. It's definitely the end of the world as I know it. But I feel strangely fine...

*****

Okay, sorry about the whole Draco being a bit OOC. He asked to be written this way, I swear. Then again, considering how the rest of this fic has played out, Draco being OOC isn't too odd, is it? Sorry if you found it irritating. But, as always, consider the source.

Thanks to:

energy, well. What can I say? I'll work on your requests, but I'm sorry if my opposition to the whole Ron/Neville pairing is upsetting to you. I can't do it and I'm sorry. I just can't. As for the rest, though, I promise I'll work on it. But just for the record, Dean isn't a loser. We like Dean. We love Dean. Because what is Seamus without Dean? That's what I thought. Anyway, thanks a lot, my love. *kisses*; Kimagure, what do you think? You inspired the whole Nev/Draco thing. Only you have done them justice thus far, but I wanted to make 'em funny instead of angsting. Not that I don't like them angsting. Far from it. I just needed a break from that, that's all. I hope you like this, love, because it's all for you; Just Silver, what do you think of Neville's reaction to _Draco_? Overkill? Stupid? Why am I asking? I know the answers are -in chronological order- stupid, yes, and yes. Sorry. My imagination ran off with me; MiniMe, you make my day everytime you review. Especially this one! *grins* If I wasn't opposed to the institution of marriage, I would gladly accept. Just because I like you that much. *grins wider* Anyhoo, I'll get to the rest of those questions in due time, dear. Never fear. I rhymed! I'm a poet and didn- never mind. I'm signing off now before I make a further ass of myself. I love you all, thanks again, and many cheers! 


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